


Into the Mirror

by Robin_lives



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28650678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_lives/pseuds/Robin_lives
Summary: Isla's finally done with her old relationship and looking for a new lease on life. However, after a laps in judgement, she's attacked by her ex and saved by a stranger coming through her mirror to rescue her. This stranger just so happens to be Goku, who just so happens to have been watching her through said mirror for a while. Her life definitely looks different on the other side of the mirror and her best friend Quintana refuses to give up the search on her side.Goku/OC, but still Goku/ChiChi. It's complicated. (Crossposted on FF.Net under the name Mirror).
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta, Chi-Chi/Son Goku (Dragon Ball), Son Goku/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

“You have to let us throw you a party.”  
Isla sighed into her cellphone as she stopped and looked at herself in the half-mirror placed near the front door of her apartment. Quinn did not know when to stop.  
“I don’t know why you want to do this,” She said, her tone soaked with exasperation as she tucked a dark strain on wavy hair behind her ear. “I’m going to be 26, Quintana. It’s not like some sort of huge milestone. It’s just a hang out and watch a crappy horror movie kind of birthday.”  
She could feel Quinn’s annoyance from the strand of syllables she tossed together to signal that Isla should stop talking.  
“Every birthday is a crappy-horror-movie-birthday for you! Let me do the best friend duty of getting you super drunk and dancy in front of everyone! You’re not letting me live up to my full potential.”  
The pout was almost tangible. Isla rolled her eyes and let out a small chuckle.  
“You know I don’t dance in front of other people, Quinn.”  
“You will tomorrow night.”  
Biting her lip, Isla ran her eyes up and down her appearance in the mirror. She was finally enjoying looking at herself again. Her body looked like her own. She enjoyed the shape of her legs and the curve of her waist into her hips now. Her breasts seemed perkier instead of giant bags weighing her down. Her tummy, while not flat, was not the rotund barrel that it once was. It was amazing what escaping an abusive relationship would do for a person’s self-esteem. Really, down in her heart, she knew that’s why Quintana wanted to throw this party so badly. It was her first birthday in a long time without Paul.  
“Fine,” Isla conceded after a pregnant pause. Quinn let out a high pitched squeal that caused Isla to hiss slightly and jerk the phone away from her ear.  
“You’re not gonna regret this!”  
Somehow, Isla had the feeling that she was.

January in Northeastern United States is brutal. Snow and ice rule every inch of the landscape. Isla’s apartment was situated in the downtown area in a small town of Massachusetts. While this helped a little with the problem of snowy roads with the city workers putting salt out every chance they got, it did not help with the bitter wind that clawed its way through a person’s clothing and burrowed into the bone.  
She worked as a behavioral assistant in the juvenile detention center located on the opposite side of the downtown. Every day she would meet with her kids, assisting the doctor that was grabbing up service hours by either pretending to be interested in issues or offering unhelpful advice to kids that had heard all of the bullshit in the book. It made her want to continue her education into the doctoral program, but she never could get Paul to get on board. He through her Master’s degree was enough for her and actively squashed every attempt of hers to promote the idea to him and herself. Screw Paul.  
She’d met Quintana after they’d both moved from different parts of the US to accept the position as behavioral assistant. They laughed together at how odd it was to move to this small town for such a little position, but they loved the kids and the work.  
“Who do you have today?” Isla stood in front of her case files, sitting her bag on the long table that she and Quinn shared as a desk.  
“ Dr. Monroe and Dr. Pratt.” Quintana whined, looking up at her friend piteously, “Save me, Ise.”  
The brunette shook her head, waving a hand in front of her, “Oh no. They’re the biggest wastes of time in this program. They hate coming here. I don’t know why they still do it every week.”  
“I think they request me.” Quinn sighed, returning to her computer work and pursing her lips, “I don’t know why.”  
Isla rolled her eyes. She knew why. Quinn was the most beautiful woman in the world. Long, blonde hair that reached to the small of her back. Deep brown eyes that sat either side of a pixie nose. Her lips were full and deflated into a small smirk in casual conversation. Her skin was tanned, even in the blindingly white weather of winter. Her family immigrated from Columbia, her mother and father raising her in Texas. Isla loved listening to her talk to her family in the smooth Spanish Quinn was so comfortable with. It was like listening to a musical call from an exotic bird in their tropical habitat.  
She sat in the group meetings of psychologists and their delinquent patients, contributing and recording the conversations. The kids talked mostly about what was happening to them inside the center, their relationships and their experiences. Rarely did anyone talk about their crime that led them to the seat that sat in that day. Later, she returned to her and Quinn’s shared office and made her notes before calling it a day and making her way to the bus stop to take her back home.  
She lived a pretty boring life. The only person she every really hung out with was Quinn and her boyfriend-of-the-moment. She rarely went out on dates. She rarely went to clubs. She rarely drank. She rarely had the experiences of someone in their twenties that she could either be embarrassed photos existed of or proud to think that she could tell her grandkids of one day. She just was, and she wasn’t doing a very good job of it.  
She entered her dark apartment, quickly flicking the switch as she closed the heavy wooden door behind her. Leaning her back against the door, she turned her head and stared at herself in the mirror once again. Her dark eyes scanned her face, taking in what she’d spent so much time trying to avoid. She was young, beautiful, and ready for something else.

The next day was a blur leading up to her party. The entire morning, her stomach fluttered with excitement and dread of the party that evening. She could barely focus on the group sessions she had, but she powered through them, throwing out questions that the doctor missed in her briefing notes.  
When she returned to their office for her lunch break, Quintana cornered her, shutting and locking the door before pushing Isla into a chair and staring her straight in the eyes.  
“I’m gonna need three things.” The woman’s voice was commanding as she held her pointer finger up in front of Isla’s face, “One: your apartment key. Two: you to change into the outfit I have for you in that-“ she pointed to the garment bag hanging on the back of their office door, her eyes never leaving Isla’s “-bag. Three: you to take Dr. Monroe this afternoon because I’m leaving and won’t be back after lunch. Adios. ”  
With that, Quinn stood, picking her bag up off of the floor and gathering her coat as she straightened. Isla shot her a look, her opening her mouth to protest but failing as Quinn quickly left and shut the door behind her.  
“Freaking great.” She sighed, twirling her chair so that she was facing her computer screen. She could see Dr. Monroe’s stupid grinning face on his profile page, which she lightly flicked with her thumb and forefinger, causing the screen to momentarily ripple in rainbow colors. “Happy birthday to me.”

Isla was going to kill Quinn. When she got back from her final session of the day, she took a peek inside the garment bag, trying to quench the curiosity of what Quinn had picked out for her to wear that evening. Her curiosity turned to horror as she held up the contents. A cocktail dress, above the knee length, gold sparkling skirt and a black bodice with a plunging sweetheart neckline. Her mouth fell open as she lifted the dress out of bag, a pair of black pumps falling out after it to complete the look.  
She had never worn something so short or revealing in her life. Glancing down at her professional attire of a modest pencil skirt and sleeveless blouse with a fitted jacket, she compared her actual style with Quinn’s obvious fantasy of her. She’d never commanded that much attention, but boy would she in this dress.  
After her changing, she felt as uncomfortable as she thought she would in her new outfit. Earning a few glances from the night staff, she called an Uber car to take her home. The thought of riding the bus in that dress made her blush spread down to her chest, so she figured that she could hide the thing under her coat long enough for a stranger to drive her back home in their own private car.  
Pulling up to her apartment, nothing looked amiss from the outside, which kind of disappointed Isla. She knew Quinn’s idea of a party and so far there were no signs of it anywhere. Slowly, she made her way up to the second floor. The quiet of the hallway made her heart drop. Maybe Quinn told her to go to the wrong place. Her hand hovered over the door handle. Maybe she heard Quinn wrong about where to go. She turned the knob, pushing the door slightly. Maybe Quinn decided she didn’t want to throw the party. Maybe-  
“SURPRISE!”  
The collective shout and confetti toss of the crowd standing her her living room sent a shockwave through Isla. A smile broke out over her face, its potency affecting the rest of her body in shivering delight. Friends and neighbors were scattered around the room, all smiling, laughing, and looking at her.  
Quinn burst through the center of the crowd, handing Isla a drink.  
“Happy birthday!” She shouted as music began to blare from the speakers on the far wall of the small apartment. “Let’s get shitfaced!”  
Isla grinned at her friend, her fears subsiding as she looked from the drink and back to Quinn’s smirking expression. This is what she wanted. Her body went to autopilot, taking the drink her hand and turning it up, draining the burning liquid down her throat. “Fuck yeah!”

The days out on Mt. Paozu were long and boring if you weren’t training. That’s what Goku had come to understand. He leaned on the wheel of his tractor, watching the scenery drag by. ChiChi wanted him to farm and earn money for the family, but it wasn’t the life he wanted. His body ached for the kind of intense conditioning he was used to undergoing. He felt like a race car on blocks, his engine revving but never letting him gain the sweet release of breaking free.  
Usually, he would break a few times to power up, let his energy spike before doing a few exercises. Ultimately, however, he had to return to his hunched position behind the wheel of his tractor.  
He’d been out for a few hours now, plowing the fields in miscellaneous directions, trying to seem busy so ChiChi wouldn’t have any reason to complain about his time spent out of the house. But, to be honest, he wasn’t even that good at farming and it just kind of got on his nerves.  
Scratching the back of his neck, he leaned backward, stretching his eager muscles. The sun was high above him, telling him that it was time for a break. He looked around his field, taking in the bare dirt and surveying the trees in the distance.  
“Maybe I should take a break over in the shade.” He mused, tapping his finger to his chin, “That would be way more relaxing than eating in the sun.”  
Lunch in hand, he floated lazily toward the trees, touching down in the middle of a particularly covered area. His stomach growled in anticipation of the food ChiChi had prepared that morning. He could smell it all the way through the wrapping, whetting his appetite even after he had finished his breakfast.  
“Thanks for the food!” He quickly prayed before lifting the rice bowl to his lips and shoveling it in.  
“SURPRISE!”  
A loud shout caught him off guard, his hand faltering and letting the bowl slip from his grasp. He stared down at the wasted food, his mouth falling into a deep frown.  
“Aw man.” He grumbled, casting a longing look at the rice that littered the ground. Quickly, he stood. The shout sounded like it had come from a group. Hopefully, he thought, where a group was, so was food, and they owed him some food.  
The collective sounds of people mingling and music thumping through the atmosphere were muffled by the trees. Goku narrowed his eyes, turning in different directions, trying to find where the sound was originating. Finally, he settled on a direction and made his way toward the sounds of revelry.  
He stopped at the mouth of a small cave, having to stoop to gaze inside. Cocking his head to the side, he looked into the darkness, confusion filling him.  
“Who has a party inside a cave?” He wondered aloud, scratching his cheek. The sounds were definitely coming from inside, but the roof of the cave was so low that he had a hard time believing that people were actually inside enjoying a party as much as it sounded like they were. The strangeness of the situation peeked his curiosity as he got on his hands and knees, making his way into the dark cave. Briefly, he thought about his chances of meeting a bear, but dismissed the idea in light of the numerous amount of people it sounded like were also in the cave. The noise grew as he made his way further inside. After a few minutes of crawling, a dim light caught his eye. On the side of the cave, set in the rock was a hole. Goku approached it with a mix of extreme caution and intrigue. It was a window, showing people casually passing by with drinks in their hands, people dancing at what looked like a house party, and music and colored lights pouring out into the almost empty cave. He sat and watched for a few moments, but none of the people seemed to notice him. They chatted with one another, laughing and dancing as through he didn’t even exist. Slowly, his hand reached up. He felt like he wanted to join them. He felt a pull to crawl through the hole and exist in their world. However, as he reach toward them, his hand was stopped by something cold and hard.  
“That’s strange.” He mumbled, “It’s glass.”  
Before he could spend too long pondering this, his eyes caught a sparkling flash, stealing his attention momentarily. It was a girl, a laughing expression on her lips as she danced with another girl in the center of the room. Her dress glittered gold as she twirled the other girl and then herself in a circle, a bright laugh emanating from her. Her dark, wavy hair brushed her bare shoulders as she tossed her head back in for the beat of the song, raising her arms up in the air and moving her hips to the music. He’d never seen anything like her. Other people gathered around her, shouting encouragements to her that she laughed off or playfully rebuffed. The other girl left for a moment, only to return with two small glasses, one of which she took for herself and the other she gave to the dancing girl. They both turned the glasses up and then two more that were brought to them by a man on the side of the dance floor.  
The sights were so foreign, yet inviting to him, that Goku sat and watched the party until the number of people dropped from many to few to only the two girls.  
“Duh-do you want me to help ya-you clean up?” The blonde girl’s words slurred into a sentence with too few syllables to be actually intelligible, but the dark haired girl seemed to understand, shaking her head at her.  
“No-no!” She waved her friend off in an awkward motion, “Jus go get in your cab. And I’ll be fine.”  
The blonde girl smiled, capturing her friend in a one-armed neck hug before stumbling out of view of the window Goku peered through.  
“Thank you for this, Quinny.” The dark haired girl called toward the direction the other girl walked. A messy smile still lingered on her face as she stared in that direction, watching her friend leave Goku guessed.  
The room was still and Goku was suddenly aware of how quiet the cave was with the girl just standing in her space, not making a sound. Her eyes wandered toward the window, causing Goku’s heart to beat a little faster. Did she see him? He saw her eyes narrow toward him. She definitely saw him. Stumbling slightly, she made her way out of view of the window before returning to it moments later with a small cupcake in her hands, a lit candle on top. Her dark eyes met his, the hard gaze capturing his full attention.  
“Well,” she finally spoke, her voice steadier than in the previous moments of her speaking with her friend, “This is it, Isla.”  
Goku bit his lip in concentration. He watched as her eyes flickered from his to the cupcake.  
“Isla,” he repeated softly. She smiled as if it was a response to his acknowledgement of her. Her eyes met his again.  
“Here’s to the year of living life to the fullest. Here’s to adventure. Here’s to not turning back.”  
The girl smiled at Goku, her lips parting slightly and blowing out the candle on the small cake.  
“Happy birthday.”  
“Daddy!”  
Goku jumped, knocking his head against the roof of the cave at the sound of his youngest son. Quickly, he scrambled out of the hole and righted himself, dusting off his clothing and returning to the food he’d abandoned a few hours prior.  
“I’m over here Goten!” He called and waited for the small boy to appear. Throwing one last glance in the direction of the cave, he noted the spot. This is somewhere he wanted to remember. This is where he could see Isla.

The next morning, Isla awoke with a headache that could have split Mount Everest. She spent half an hour vomiting and then dry heaving into her toilet before dragging herself into her demolished living room. Confetti and partially deflated balloons littered the floor. She made her way toward her kitchen, kicking a few balloons and fallen streamers in the process. Her reflection in the hallway mirror caught her eye as she passed. Dark bags and smeared make up decorated her eyes as her skin took on a grayish sickly color. She never wanted to drink again. Quietly, she thanked herself for changing into pajamas before going to bed, so she wasn’t still in that cocktail dress from the night before.  
She chomped on dry toast, washing it down with black coffee and laying her head on her dining room table.  
The faces of the people who attended her party flashed through her mind. Brandon, James, Evie, Kia, Rachel, Jesse. All friends of her’s that she’d known from around town. Bethany from reception, John from security, Linda from Human Resources. All people who worked with her. Other faces that she’d only been acquaintances with surfaced out of the drunken haze, all familiar, all guaranteed to give her hell about her dancing or whatever she said when she was drunk. All expect one unfamiliar face. A man with black, spiky hair. He was handsome, for sure, with dark eyes, but she could see him out of her corner of her eye whenever she danced or chatted with anyone. Always watching her. Who was he?


	2. Chapter 2

He couldn't stop thinking about the window in the cave. It had been three days and he hadn't gone back, but it didn't mean that his mind wasn't there. When he closed his eyes at night, he could still see the people standing in the glowing room while that girl danced in the middle of them, the sparkle from her dress flashing as the lights hit it.

Groaning, he rubbed his face with his palm. Why was this happening? Usually, he could empty his mind at the drop of a hat and refocus on what he wanted to think about, but now... now he was consumed with the thought of watching that girl.

She was going to do whatever she wanted. Paul never wanted pets. He was allergic to cats.

The small bell above the door to the animal shelter let out a soft ding as she stepped into the heated lobby. A short teenaged boy sat at the receptionist desk, dropping his phone out of view and looking up to greet her.

"Hello," His voice cracked in an almost cartoonish way, causing his cheeks to flush momentarily.

Isla smiled at him and leaned against the counter.

"Hey, I came to look into adopting a cat."

Screw Paul.

The selection of cats in the animal shelter was truly heartbreaking. A number of eyes followed her as she slowly walked down the isles, all of them begging for her to let them out of their small cages. Some of the cats even reached out to her, a couple snagging her cardigan with their claws as she passed. The boy followed, his hands stuffed uncomfortably in his jean pockets as he slouched a few steps behind her.

"Who do you have the hardest time getting adopted?" She asked, her eyes never leaving the columns of cages that lined the wall. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the boy shrug and cross his arms over his stomach.

"I dunno." His voice interchanged a high and low sound with the two words, causing him to clear his throat, "We get a lot of calls about black cats. They're super hard to catch, though. Usually, when we get there, they're already gone and nobody can find 'em."

Isla pursed her lips and nodded. The boy noticed her slight interest and continued quickly.

"Yeah, they get tortured a lot. I think it has to do with superstition, but I dunno. We have one if you want me to show you."

The woman's eyes flashed to the boy's. She could see him swallow hard as she smiled at him.

"I'd like that."

"Welcome to your new home, Rex."

Isla sat the pet carried down that she'd bought secondhand before going to the shelter. Slowly opening the metal door, she peered inside at the black mass that occupied the back of the box. After a few moments, two yellow eyes appeared in the form, filled with distrust. She sat back on her heels, giving the cat space.

"I understand. It takes time, doesn't it, buddy?" She said, standing and taking the little plastic water and food bowls out of a shopping bag and going to the sink to wash them. She decided to go with the name they gave him at the animal shelter, letting him hang on to something familiar. It suited him, she thought.

After supplying her new friend with food and water, Isla sat on her couch, session notes in one hand and cup of hot tea in the other. She knew that Rex would never be happy coming out of the carrier with her poking and prodding at him, so she decided to let him find his way naturally. That was the way Quinn helped her after she left Paul. She just made sure Isla's metaphorical food and water dished were filled and sat close by, ready to listen when the brunette needed it. After about an hour of review, she felt a soft tickle on the back of her neck. Her eyes shifted, catching a little flash of black scurrying down the back of her couch. A small smile fell over her lips.

"It just takes time."

Goku woke up earlier than usual. He rushed to get dressed, skipping steps on his way down the stairs and toward the kitchen where ChiChi had left his food bundle for lunch. Kissing his wife briskly on the cheek, he lifted off and flew toward the forested area where Isla's cave sat.

Butterflies bloomed in his stomach with anticipation. He'd decided the night before to check in on Isla. It had been some days since he'd seen her at the party. It was only logical that he be curious about how she was. He wasn't spying on her, he rationalized, he was checking on her. To him, the intent seemed to be the difference.

Dropping his food at the mouth of the cave, he got on all fours and crawled to his spot.

He blinked at the brightness of the light coming out of the window, letting his eyes adjust. She came into view, or really, the back of her head did. He saw the top of her hair, her bun peaking over the back of her couch. A cat jumped up next to the tuft of hair, batting at it playfully.

"Hey there, dude." A soft giggle came from the person the hair was attached to. Gradually, the person came into view until she was leaning on her elbows, snuggling her face into the fur of the cat and laughing at its aggressive affection.

Isla rose even more, making Goku think that her knees were now on the seat. She stretched her arms upward and yawned, the middle of her stomach exposed by her shirt inching up at the movement. Goku's eyes widened. Her skin was so pale and smooth. He fought himself to look away, trying to will away the wish for her top to inch up more.

"Come on, Rexie." She said, pushing herself off of the sofa and giving Goku a look at her. It must have been her pajamas, he thought. She wore pink, cotton looking shorts and a black crop top. The soft curve of her waist and hips caught the Sayian's eye. He followed her as she left his view. She returned after a moment, a remote in hand. With a few clicks, music sprang to life from the speakers next to her TV. It wasn't a song that he recognized, but the beat was fast and the lyrics were sang quickly by a few unseen girls. He watched Isla's lips conform to the words in the song and soon her body was following the rapid beats. The cat simply sat on the back of the couch, its eyes following the girl as she moved near it.

Isla laughed as she danced around Rex. He watched her closely as she moved in time with the music, his ears laying to the side, giving him a look of confusion.

"You're gonna have to get used to this if you're going to live here." She said, swooping down to give Rex a peck on the head with her mouth, "I love dancing."

Swinging her hair, she turned and gazed at herself in the mirror. Copying the seductive expressions of the girls in the band she'd seen in the music video, she danced her way toward her reflection. Her hands moved slowly up her body, ultimately tussling her hair before returning to her hips. She jumped with the beat, mouthing the words as the song reached its climax.

A loud huff came from Rex as Isla collapsed on the sofa next to him, hanging her socked feet over the back of it. She smiled at him, scratching his ear and giving him another quick peck. He didn't seem to mind the noise and movement as much as she thought he would. He simply stood, his butt directly in her line of vision, and hopped onto the floor, making his way toward her bedroom for a nap.

Goku sat very still, absorbing what he'd just witnessed. He hadn't really seen anyone dance that way. Once, at a tournament, he saw some women dancing in bikinis at a booth on the side of the food stalls. They didn't look like this, though. The faces she made sent a shiver down his spine. He didn't know dancing could be so... seductive. Her body swayed, her hips wiggled, her hands ran up and down her own body.

The thought of her made his mouth water. He didn't know anything but food could make his mouth water, either.

ChiChi loved her husband. Well, she'd been with him long enough to grow fond of him. Love seemed to be too intimate and personal. She accepted that Goku would be a warrior first and second, her own spot being in third with their sons. What else could she expect marrying a Sayian? They were aliens that literally lived to fight and Goku certainly did. Her life was dedicated to helping him, but he needed to pull his own weight in the family while he wasn't dying for every one else in the world.

Lately, he'd really seemed to be trying to fit into the farming lifestyle she pushed him toward. He really didn't have any marketable skills, so farming seemed to be the ticket for him. Manual labor and free space to do what he could for them. For the past few weeks, he'd been getting up earlier and coming home later. She appreciated what he was doing and showed him in their bedroom.

He was more lively than usual, sending her farther and higher than she thought he could. Her body certainly enjoyed to attention he was showing her. She loved that part. Being married to a Sayian did have its perks.

"I'm so proud of you, Goku." She snuggled closer to him, her body breathless after their love making. Her hand gently lay on his chest while her head nestled into the crook of his arm. He looked over at her, the signature goofy smile he'd perfected plastered on his face. "Thank you for doing this for our family."

Goku looked back up to the ceiling, the smile fading away in an instant. He laid there for several minutes until he heard ChiChi's breathing change into a soft snore, letting him know she'd fallen asleep. Slowly, he slipped his wife's head onto a pillow and put his feet on the floor. He pulled his gi pants over his naked lower half, tying his belt around his waist.

Using Instant Transmission, he teleported himself to Isla's cave directly in front of the window.

A soft glow imitated from the glass. The room was dark, but her TV illuminated the room intermittently between pictures and black screens after commercials. He could see her small bun resting against the back of the couch, the back of her left hand making a pillow for her head. Her shoulders rose and fell slightly.

This gave Goku a sense of relief. She was safe, sleeping peacefully in her apartment. ChiChi was safe, sleeping peacefully in his home.

He teleported back to his bedroom, returning to his original position as ChiChi's pillow before pulling her closer and starting to drift out of consciousness.

"Everything is ok." He thought, his mind filling with haze. "The world is ok, for now."

Isla was proud of Rex for adjusting so well into her life. He'd fallen into step with her schedule, sitting in expectation at his food bowl right before she went out the door each morning before work and every evening when she got home. Mostly, he spent the rest of his time either climbing on and scratching furniture or sleeping on her clean clothes and made bed.

The weeks went by quickly as the two made a small family out of one another. Quinn came by for dinner once or twice a week, the first few times, sending Rex into a spiral. But he got used to her and enjoyed sleeping on her ample chest.

"Guess what Monroe did in our session today." Isla called from her place at the stove while Quintana shared her seat on the couch with Rex. The blonde tapped her lips playfully feigning ignorance and humming questioningly.

"Umm, he told a young man that he needed to push through his traumatic childhood and get over it?"

Isla rolled her eyes, "Not this time."

She quickly pushed the contents of her pan, mixing the sautéed vegetables and beef together before putting it into a glass serving dish and placing it on the coffee table in front of Quinn. Opening the bag of tortillas and handing one to her friend, she smirked.

"He asked a teenage sex worker what 'hole she was trying to fill' with prostitution."

Quintana let out a barking laugh, causing Rex to dart away from her warm lap. She lifted a spoonful of the mixture into her tortilla and took a bite, letting out an exaggerated sound of enjoyment.

"We need to do fajitas more often."

Isla nodded, following her friend's movements. "I agree."

The two fell into silence, each taking their part of the meal for their own pleasure. Quinn's attention turned to the old black and white movie that flickered in front of her. Rebecca by Alfred Hitchcock. They'd seen it a dozen times together and it got better each time. Isla leaned back against the cushions, sighing.

"Do you ever feel like you're not where you're supposed to be?"

Quinn's head snapped toward her friend at the question, a confused smile on her face, "What?"

Isla sat up straighter, tapping her fingers against the soft upholstery underneath her.

"You know," she continued, "Like, you're just in a place that kind of feels ok but there are some edges that don't quite meet? Like putting an almost correct puzzle piece in a spot because you're trying to finish the picture and it's the only one left, but it looks a little off."

Quintana's smile faded as she stared at her friend, "You want to quit your job?"

Isla quickly shook her head, "No, but—"

"So you want to move to a new town?"

"No, Quinn, I—"

"Then what?"

Isla sighed once more, her hands flying into the air in frustration, "I don't know! I just have this urge to change."

"Change what?"

Isla's brow knitted together, "Just things! Everything!"

Quinn sat in Isla's presence for a moment, thinking of what to say before taking her hand and smiling softly, "Ise, you just got out a terrible relationship. You were repressed for 4 years. I know that the desire to fly into this freedom is tempting, but I don't want you to go off the deep end, ok?"

"But-"

Quintana motioned to Rex as he joined the women, making a place for himself beside Isla and laying down.

"You got a cat! Let's just take it baby steps for now."

Isla nodded, sending a curt smile to her friend before returning to their movie.

Saturday was Goku's favorite day to watch Isla's life in her apartment. She would wake up early and spend a lot of the day in her pajamas, dancing for him and Rex in her living room. However, this Saturday, she wasn't home.

Goku arrived at the window at his regular time, anxious to see his human in her natural habitat. He waited for half an hour, shifting in his seat in anticipation before he became worried. With every extra minute she wasn't there, his anxiety grew. He wasn't exactly the most patient person, but her absence was so jarring. If he were standing, he would be pacing but for now he had to sit and stare into the glass.

Trying to calm himself, he took a deep breath and waited. However, his calm turned to panic as his window dimmed slightly.

"No, no, no!" He almost jumped to his feet, but bumped his head on the roof of the cave. Maybe he needed more power to keep his window open? Did it even run on power?

He quickly centered himself, powering up to his Super Sayian form only to be met with the same dimness and his own expectant reflection. Powering down, he put his hands on the glass and willed it to come back to life, but failing when the light dimmed a bit more.

He needed help! He needed someone who knew more about space-time rips than he did. He needed someone who could help him understand why he was so worried about a random stranger he'd never formally met but was currently spiraling over.

"Vegeta!"

Goku appeared directly in front of the Prince of all Sayians, startling him and receiving a firm blow to the face as punishment. The Sayian prince had been spending his Saturday training as he always did. The gravity room at Capsule Corp that Bulma, his wife, had built for him assisted in helping him build his strength.

"Ow!" The taller Sayian whined, holding his cheek, "What was that for?"

"Good God, Kakarot!"

Goku's hand stayed planted on his affected cheek, trying to rub the pain away. Vegeta scowled at him, rearing back to hit him again only to be stopped by Goku waving his hands in surrender.

"No, no, Vegeta! I didn't come here to fight!"

The Prince crossed his arms across his chest, the scowl still staining his features.

"The what the hell do you want? I was in the middle of training."

Goku grabbed Vegeta's arm holding it fast as the shorter man attempted to pull away. The taller Sayian shot the shorter one a hard look, causing Vegeta to falter a bit. He hadn't seen Goku so serious outside of a battle.

"I need your help!"

Vegeta sighed and conceded, relaxing his muscle against Goku's grip. If he was this bothered, it had to be something important.

"This better be good, Kakarot."


End file.
